Momo's Gradual Change

C99. A Stroke of Luck.

Chapter 99: A Stroke of Luck

Zhai Yansong began to understand why his grandson, so selective and proud since childhood, insisted on taking this young woman as his sister. There was no need to analyze her strengths in detail—spending just a few minutes with her left a unique impression, one that made it nearly impossible to dislike her.

"You needn't worry too much," he reassured her gently. "Young folks might not take to it right away, but we older folks truly enjoy it. Good tea, after all, should linger on the tongue, and sooner or later, people will come to appreciate it."

"Yes, I’m sure they will." Song Yimo turned to Zhai Muyang with a trusting look. "With my Dage here, I'm certain he’ll find the right path for it. Right, Dage?"

"Absolutely. Just leave it to me," he replied with an affectionate smile.

Zhai Yansong blinked, startled—was this really his grandson?

But the surprises weren’t over.

"Let’s have lunch here. I’ll ask the kitchen to send over some of their best dishes."

Ignoring Zhai Muyang’s incredulous expression, Zhai Yansong continued in the warm tone of a grandfather doting on his granddaughter. "Yimo, do you prefer meat or vegetarian dishes?"

"Vegetarian, please," she said, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret. "My Dage said the vegetarian dishes here are delicious, so I’d love to try them. Maybe I can even pick up a few tips to make something similar for my grandma."

His face softening, Zhai Yansong responded warmly, "No need to steal recipes; I’ll ask the chef to write them down for you."

"Really?" Song Yimo’s eyes sparkled with delight.

"Of course," he chuckled. "The chef isn’t even a permanent staff member; he’s more like a wandering monk, just here for a while because he likes the environment. He’ll be glad to share his recipes."

Song Yimo let out a long, weary sigh. "Why does he treat this sanatorium like a sacred shrine?" she mused, her voice tinged with a touch of bewilderment. "There truly are extraordinary individuals among us."

Zhai Yansong's smile widened as he responded, "He said it himself." His tone was a blend of amusement and understanding.

"What good environment is this place?" Zhai Muyang chimed in, “Wait till you see the wellness center I’m planning in Xinghu County. You’ll know what ‘good environment’ really means.”

"Are you building a wellness center in Xinghu County?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah." He responded dismissively, "Why, interested in my business all of a sudden?"

"As if I care about your business! I've lived in a sanatorium for six or seven years, and I've moved to different places. I know more about this place than you do." his grandfather retorted with a roll of his eyes. "You think a wellness center is just a place with some rooms? There’s a lot more to it."

"And you think I don’t know that?” Zhai Muyang smirked. “You think Xinghu County has no potential just because it's small? I’m not that blind."

"Dage," Song Yimo interrupted gently, offering him his tea. "Your tea’s getting cold."

Turning back to Zhai Yansong, she smiled. "I’ll top up your tea, Grandpa."

The two men exchanged stubborn glances, turning away in unison, each unwilling to concede even a hint of affection.

But oddly enough, their contentiousness seemed comfortable, like slipping back into an old rhythm. As Song Yimo refilled the teacups, she realized that they didn’t need any mediator. This was their own unique, awkward way of connecting.

Of course, this cannot be said, and neither of them will admit it.

Lunch was enjoyed at Zhai Yansong’s residence, and after the meal, with his usual preference for a brief midday nap, they lingered only a little longer before preparing to leave.

"Grandpa, when I’m on holiday, I’ll come visit you again. I wrote down our home number, and I drew a map to my house. If you’re up for an outing, take the bus to the terminal, and my grandma will meet you. Or, you can always call Dage and have him pick you up."

Though he couldn’t fully approve of being volunteered, Zhai Muyang had no choice but to nod, prepared to oblige if his grandfather took her up on the offer.

Zhai Yansong was extremely satisfied with this extra granddaughter, who was completely different from his grandson.

"Alright, alright,” Zhai Yansong murmured with a faint smile. "I’ll keep it in mind. Give my regards to your grandmother." He handed her a small, treasured box. "Take this. You can’t call me Grandpa for nothing, after all."

Song Yimo glanced at her brother for permission. He nodded; this was something he’d seen on his mother’s dresser for as long as he could remember.

"Thank you, Grandpa." She accepted the box carefully, placing it safely in her bag. "Take care of yourself, Grandpa. We’ll be going now."

"No need to worry about me; I’m doing just fine here."

Zhai Yansong stopped after sending the two out of the yard. He saw them to the courtyard gate, where Song Yimo waved, linking arms with her brother as they walked off.

Watching her, so small beside his grandson, Zhai Yansong let out a quiet sigh. This young woman was a different spirit from his daughter Zhai Lele—stronger, more optimistic, and rational.

He had not expected the huge change after Muyang had accepted her as his sister, he had changed in ways even he might not realize. Perhaps even Mu Yang didn't know that he could be so soft-hearted.

Having grown up discerning people’s motives early on, Muyang possessed everything he needed except for the simple joy of familial love. He had known that for years, but it had seemed too late to do anything about it.

Seeing Song Yimo turn to wave, he couldn’t help but smile and wave back. Before meeting her, he’d held concerns about her and her grandmother. Now, he was certain his grandson had lucked out.

Though, he mused to himself, the boy seemed oblivious to the difference between sibling affection and romantic feelings.

“Honestly, who treats their sister like a sweetheart?”

But if he could shift that dynamic just a little, it might actually be for the best. He had a feeling about Yimo—she was something special.

"Old Zhai, what are you dawdling for? Ready for a game?" called a neighbor.

"Coming." Watching them disappear around the corner, Zhai Yansong turned back inside.

These two didn’t need any guidance from him; they had their own path, just as his daughter Lele had. After decades of trying, he’d learned that sometimes, it’s best to leave things as they are.

In the car, Song Yimo buckled her seatbelt and said, "It’s still early. Dage, I’d like to stop by Uncle Miao’s to check if Miaomiao’s back. If she hasn’t, I’ll bring her home since she has school tomorrow."

"I’ll give them a call."

After a brief, hurried conversation, he received the address.

"Looks like they’re busy—still wrapping things up the store."

"Perfect timing. I can help."

Smiling, Zhai Muyang started the car, knowing Miao’s family would hardly let Yimo lift a finger. It was obvious by now: while they treated Miao Zhiruo like a son who’d one day run the family, Song Yimo was their beloved daughter.

Good thing Miao Zhiruo had a straightforward personality and genuinely saw Yimo as a sister. Otherwise, things could have gotten much more complicated long ago.